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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824774">a cardinal hits the window</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeoleus/pseuds/aeoleus'>aeoleus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a cardinal hits the window [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Five Stages of Grief, Grief/Mourning, casimir pulaski day ladies!!, im very sorry but also im not, the ghost of sufjan stevens possessed me as I wrote this and he isn't even dead, yue and sokka bleach her hair as a heavy handed allegory</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:42:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,730</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeoleus/pseuds/aeoleus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning of the end, though Sokka doesn't recognize it at the time, comes in the form of a text message. </p><p>Yue 🌙 at 2:41 PM<br/>i need u to help me dye my hair</p><p>[REPOST- ACCIDENTALLY ORPHANED]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sokka/Yue (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a cardinal hits the window [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>avatar fics consisting primarily of purple ships lol</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a cardinal hits the window</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500771">a cardinal hits the window</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account">orphan_account</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi all!</p><p>This work was orphaned by accident. I’m the original author,  so im re-uploading everything as it was originally. Please check my tumblr (ta1k-less) and my profile for links to re-uploaded works or updates. So sorry for the inconvenience!</p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>1. see the end of the work for content warnings!! this fic deals with heavy stuff, so if you're concerned definitely take a look.<br/>2. im sorry<br/>3. i made</p><p>a <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VbyCAUMArW770KfQerJrD?si=jHsjGtc_Q6S2qnWDip-rLQ">playlist</a></p><p>for u guys!! cus im gonna be honest, this work was entirely inspired from listening exclusively to the Sufjan Stevens albums Illinois and Carrie and Lowell. <br/>4. huge thank you to my beta @agentcalliope who is long-suffering in my pursuit to procrastinate as much as i can<br/>5. im sorry</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The beginning of the end, though Sokka doesn’t recognize it at the time, comes in the form of a text message. </p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue</em></b> <b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 2:41 PM</em></b></p><p>i need u to help me dye my hair</p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 2:42 PM</em> </b>
</p><p>?????</p><p>I mean</p><p>I’m always down to impulsively dye hair </p><p>But aren’t u at the drs rn? </p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 2:45 PM</em></b></p><p>not anymore. come over? </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Yue answers the door wearing one of her dad’s t-shirts, instead of one of her usual ridiculously fashionable outfits, and that’s so out of the ordinary Sokka almost doesn’t even notice that her eyes are red and swollen. </p><p>“Is something-” </p><p>“Come with me.” </p><p>Yue grabs Sokka’s wrist and pulls him through the doorway. She marches him through the house, not even letting him stop to greet her dad or grandmother, who are speaking in hushed tones in the living room, and doesn’t let go until she’s deposited him in her bathroom, which looks like she bought a whole beauty store and dumped it on the counter. </p><p>“Yue.” Sokka says once, because there’s a weird knot forming in his stomach, almost like when Dad came to get him from school the day of the accident, and he can’t trust himself to not assume the worst. “What’s going on?” </p><p>“I’m dying my hair.” She says, as though this is obvious. She pushes him down on the toilet seat and shoves a bag full of hair dyes at him. “Pick a color.” </p><p> </p><p>The phone rings downstairs, and a few seconds later, there’s a stifled sob. Yue’s swollen eyes widen. She hurriedly shuts the door and winces when she turns too quickly on her heel. </p><p>“Yue.” Sokka says again. “You’re freaking me out. Did something happen at the doctor’s?” </p><p> </p><p>Yue bites her lip and turns away, and the knot in Sokka’s stomach grows bigger. She slides down the bathroom door and rests her head back against it, before she finally meets his eyes. </p><p>“You know how my hip’s been hurting?” She says quietly.</p><p>Sokka nods; it’s been bothering her for weeks. Some days after school she doesn’t do much but sit on the couch with a heating pad while Sokka reads their English assignments aloud. </p><p>“Did they figure out what was wrong?” Sokka asks, and Yue lets out a laugh, though Sokka thinks she might be crying. </p><p>“Oh, did they.” She says, and she’s still giggling when she says, “Ewing Sarcoma.” </p><p> </p><p>It takes Sokka’s brain a minute to catch up. Sarcoma. Sarcoma like cancer? No, no- she’s only sixteen. Sixteen’s <em>way </em>too young to have cancer, there’s no way- </p><p>But Yue’s tears have dissolved into full-blown sobs, and she doesn’t look like she’s joking, and, oh, god, Sokka might throw up- </p><p> </p><p>“Is it- is it bad?” He manages to croak out. </p><p>“Stage four.” Yue whispers, and laughs again, burying her head in her hands. “But my dad’s freaking out and my Aanaga hasn’t stopped trying to make plans since we got back from the specialist, and apparently, I’m supposed to start chemotherapy on <em>Monday, </em>and Sokka, I-” She shakes her head. “I can’t do it.” </p><p>Sokka stares at her for a minute. There’s a weird, sinking feeling in his chest, and there’s nothing about this situation that can help him reason himself out of the decline. So, instead, he looks into the bag of hair dye Yue had shoved at him and pulls one out at random. </p><p>“Wanna dye your hair-” He glances at the bottle. “-Arctic White?” </p><p> </p><p>The tiny smile Yue gives him is worth shoving down every bad feeling for a thousand years, or even longer. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Turns out, lifting ink-black hair to white is <em>not </em>a one-day process. They’re on their third round of bleaching, blasting the playlist they have shared with Suki and Zuko, when Arnook knocks on the bathroom door. </p><p>“Hello, Sokka.” His voice sounds gravelly. </p><p>“Good evening, sir.” Sokka says. Arnook had told him ages ago to call him by his first name, but Sokka cannot bring himself to do it.</p><p>“I hate to break this up,” Arnook says, “but, honey, I just got off the phone with your oncologist- you have an appointment at seven tomorrow. You should probably get to bed.” </p><p>Yue stills, and for a second, Sokka thinks she’s going to argue, but she just slumps down. </p><p>“Okay, Dad.” She mumbles, and Arnook closes the door again. </p><p>She turns quiet as Sokka helps her rinse the bleach out. Yue conditions it in the sink, and then throws her hair up into a bun, while Sokka re-clasps her moon pendant around her neck. Her hair's turned a terribly brassy yellow-ish brown, and she wrinkles her nose at her reflection in the shower. </p><p>“The oncologist is gonna think I have terrible taste in hair colors.” Yue sighs. </p><p>“Right, that should definitely be your biggest concern tomorrow.” Sokka strips the gloves off his hands. </p><p>“Um, yeah, obviously?” Yue crosses her arms. “What else would I talk to him about?” </p><p>“Nothing.” Sokka says, and pulls her close to him, throwing his arms around her shoulders. She smells like she always does- her lavender soap, the floral scent of that perfume she loves intermingled with the acrid smell of the bleach. “Please tell me what they say tomorrow.” </p><p>“Yeah, I guess.” Yue says. “Will you finish helping me dye my hair after?” </p><p> </p><p>Sokka’s hands are raw, his t-shirt is covered with bleach stains, and his eyes are dry and stinging. </p><p> </p><p> “Of course I will.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 1:20 PM</em> </b>
</p><p>Any news? What time should I come over</p><p>ps Suki wants to come too </p><p>And Zuko </p><p>Christ these parasites owe me so much gas money </p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 3:11 PM</em></b></p><p>Im sort of not coming home? </p><p>They already admitted me i’m sorry sokka</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 3:13 PM</em> </b>
</p><p>If u apologize to me again i’ll dye your hair neon green</p><p>Send me ur room #</p><p>The parasites are coming too</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sokka hasn’t been in many hospitals, save for the accident, and the one time when Katara was five and crashed her bike at the end of the block, but it smells exactly like he remembers: hand sanitizer and too much chemical cleaner, air conditioner on too high, fluorescent lights too bright. It makes his throat close up, but Suki slips a hand in his and squeezes while they’re on the elevator, and Zuko, even with a month spent in a burn unit under his belt, is keeping his cool, so Sokka manages not to freak out. </p><p> </p><p>Yue is alone, sitting up in bed, arms tight around her knees. She turns when Sokka knocks on her open door, and her eyes are bright red again, her face flushed.  "Hi!” She says thickly, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Uh, sorry, can you guys just wash your hands before you come in?” </p><p>“Dude, of course.” Suki assures her, and herds Sokka and Zuko to the small sink in the corner of the room. </p><p>Sokka can’t help himself from climbing half up on her bed and hugging her, and Yue doesn’t seem like she minds much, either. </p><p>“Please don’t be weird about this,” she begs. </p><p>“Only as weird as you want us to be.” Zuko says. </p><p>“Which could be very weird, if you want.” Suki adds. </p><p>Yue giggles and wipes her eyes again, gesturing at the chairs around her bed. “I’m sure the drive was long, I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Would have driven a lot longer.” Sokka says. “Besides, I had a promise to keep.” He holds up the hair supplies he swiped from her bathroom on the way here. “We gotta dye your hair.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 9:03 AM</em></b></p><p>*picture attachment* </p><p>Went vogue for the first chemo </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 9:05 AM</em> </b>
</p><p>u look like kida from atlantis OH MY GOD</p><p>yue i have to ask u </p><p>I know u CAN do it to em</p><p>  But have u ever considered…</p><p>NOT doing it to em? </p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 9:08 AM</em></b></p><p>Listen if they get to pump me full of drugs i get to look pretty while they do it</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 9:10 AM</em> </b>
</p><p>Fair. carry on princess.</p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 9:21 AM</em></b></p><p>wait</p><p>Didn’t u tell me once that u have a crush on kida from atlantis </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 9:23 AM</em> </b>
</p><p>*crrsshhh*u43hdsad oh no yue I’m going through a tunnel *kkkrsshhh* I can’t hear you sorry bye-</p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 9:23 AM</em></b></p><p>sokka this is a text conversation</p><p>Sokka don’t ignore me u dummy </p><p>SOKKA</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Yue’s chemo cycle has a one-week-on, two-weeks-off pattern. She shows up to school two weeks after her diagnosis, a little paler, but shock-white hair perfectly maintained, and she pretends like she’s fine. </p><p>“Have they said anything more about the prognosis?” Sokka whispers to her during study hall. </p><p>He’s been researching Ewing Sarcoma almost every spare minute he has- or doesn’t have. He failed last week’s history test, but he could write essays on stem cell transplantation.</p><p>Yue looks steadily down at her math homework and refuses to meet his eyes. “No, but it’s fine.” </p><p>“It’s fine.” Sokka repeats. “It’s...fine?” </p><p>“It is what it is, Sokka.” Yue says. “Can we talk about something else?” </p><p> </p><p>Yue’s wearing enough makeup that anyone who wasn’t looking close enough wouldn't notice the paleness of her lips, the subtle bruising under her eyes. <br/><br/></p><p>Sokka always looks close enough. </p><p><br/>“Yeah,” he says softly. “We can talk about something else.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Hey, kiddo.” Dad at least gives him the cursory knock on his door before he enters anyways. “I just got off the phone with Arnook. We’re gonna go on the dinner rotation list for the Taqqiqs.” </p><p>“Did he say anything about how Yue is?” Sokka puts down his pencil. It’s been almost four days since Yue’s new chemo cycle started, and she’s barely responded to a text. </p><p>Dad gives him a thin smile. “She’s been pretty sick. She told her dad to tell you that she’s sorry she hasn’t texted.” </p><p>“No, no, it’s fine-” Sokka scrubs at his face. “I get it. I just- I miss her, you know?” </p><p>“I do.” Dad says. “This is going to be hard on you, too, Sokka. It’s not just hard for her and her family.” </p><p>“I’m not the one who has cancer.” Sokka mumbles.</p><p>“Doesn’t matter. You love her, and she’s in pain. That’s always going to be hard.” </p><p><em>“Dad!”  </em>Sokka feels his cheeks heat up.</p><p>Dad just looks confused. “What? You two have been attached at the hip practically since you were born, of course you love her. What’s the big deal- oh.” Dad stops. “Oh, Sokka.” </p><p>“I haven’t really <em>told </em>her yet.” Sokka mumbles. “And now <em>this </em>has happened, and I don’t wanna make things more confusing for her, you know?” </p><p>“Yeah.” Dad says. “But listen, she loves you, too. You know that, right?” </p><p>“But what if she doesn’t <em>like </em>me?” </p><p> </p><p>Dad gives a half-shrug, and reaches over to mess up his wolf’s tail. “Doesn’t matter half so much as if she loves you. Especially now. Come on downstairs, Bato and Gran-gran have almost finished dinner.” </p><p>“Did Bato make the stewed sea-prunes?” Sokka wrinkles his nose, and Dad laughs. </p><p>“No, you <em>know </em>your grandmother won’t let him anywhere near them. Come on, kid.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s three more days before he hears from Yue again. He’s ensconced into a couch in Zuko's uncle’s apartment while a terrible movie plays. Aang is using his lap as a footstool, and he’s attempting to braid Suki’s short hair when his phone buzzes. He drops her strands, ignoring her noises of protest, to pick it up. </p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 9:41 PM</em></b></p><p>I need u to help me w my hair </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 9:41 PM</em> </b>
</p><p>dude WHAT</p><p>Of course</p><p>Are we dying it bright pink so u can live out ur barbie dreams</p><p>How are you feeling??</p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 9:43 PM</em></b></p><p>um im not sure theres enough of it left for that</p><p>Can u come over? </p><p> </p><p><b><em>Sokka</em></b> <b><em>at 9:44 PM</em></b></p><p>I’m on my way now. </p><p> </p><hr/><p><br/>He makes Suki promise to drive the speed limit when she drops Katara and Toph off, and then takes off across the city. </p><p>Yue answers the door wearing one of his lacrosse sweatshirts. Her roots have started to grow out, and it’s falling out of the messy bun on top of her head. </p><p> </p><p>Her eyes are red again. </p><p>She holds up a razor. </p><p>“Wanna help me shave my head?” </p><p> </p><p>Sokka swallows the lump that appears in his throat when he takes her hand and realizes the bones in her wrist are more prominent than he’s ever noticed before.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I do.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They try to make it fun, they do. Sokka turns on the most obnoxious playlist Suki’s ever made, chock-full of purely mid-2000s club music, tries to hype up how pretty she’ll be with a shaved head, talks about all the cool colors they’ll dye it when it starts to grow back. </p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t work so well. Clumps of hair come off in Sokka’s hands, even as he just tries to comb through it. </p><p><br/>“Man, we really over-bleached your hair, huh?” He says, and when Yue laughs, it sounds suspiciously more like a sob. </p><p>Sokka puts down the razor as Yue buries her head in her hands. “Hey,” he says softly. “hey. What’s going on?” </p><p> </p><p>Yue just shakes her head and sniffles again. When she finally meets his eyes, there’s something a little broken in her expression. </p><p>“It’s just- it’s just. It’s so hard, and it’s so <em>stupid, </em>I <em>knew </em>I was gonna lose my hair, I knew it, but now that it’s here, it’s like-” She tugs gently on a piece of her hair, which falls out with little resistance, and she gives a wet, desperate laugh, letting it fall to the floor. “And when I was little, my mom- she used to comb my hair and braid it for me, and she always talked about how lovely and long it would be when I got older, but now- now she’s gone, and I have face cancer without her, and now, I have to be <em>bald-” </em></p><p>Yue cuts off as Sokka moves swiftly towards her and hugs her as tight as he can without hurting her. She sobs against his shoulder, and Sokka stares dry-eyed at the ceiling, as her tears wet his t-shirt. </p><p> </p><p><em>It’s not fair</em>, he thinks, as she finally settles down and puts the razor back in his hands. </p><p><em>It’s not fair. </em>He shaves off the last portion of her hair, down by her neck, and she runs her hands over the stubble that remains, staring at herself in the mirror. </p><p>
  <em>It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.       </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Yue’s lip is wobbling again, so before he can think, Sokka pulls his hair-tie out and hands her the razor. “Come on, princess,” he says, and even manages to grin, “I want to match you.” </p><p>Yue’s jaw drops. “Sokka, you don’t have to-” </p><p>“I <em>want </em>to. Besides, I think I'd look better bald than Aang and now, I really have to find out. Come on, chop-chop, I’m not paying you by the hour.” </p><p>Yue laughs, stands between his legs, and carefully shaves off every last hair on his head. When she finishes, their hair intermingled on the floor below them, Sokka stands up and runs his hands over his head. Yue tips her head onto his chest, and Sokka snaps a quick picture of them in the mirror. </p><p>“Egg-heads.” Sokka grins, and Yue hits his arm. “Whaddaya think? Do I pull it off?” </p><p>“I think you look very handsome.” Yue says, muffled into his chest, though it doesn’t quite hide the blush that spreads across her cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>There’s a stab of pain in Sokka’s chest. </p><p>
  <em>(I</em>
  <em>t’s not fair.)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t really want you to go home.” Yue admits. </p><p>“Funny you should say that.” Sokka says. “I don’t really want to go home.” </p><p>“Let’s watch a movie.”  Yue decides, and tugs him out of the bathroom before he can clean up the mess they’ve made. </p><p> </p><p>Yue goes downstairs to take her night medications while Sokka queues up some ridiculous Disney movie they’ve definitely seen upwards of a hundred times. </p><p>This, too, they’ve done a hundred times. Watching a movie on Yue’s bed, slowly migrating towards each other until someone’s arm is draped over someone’s stomach, someone’s head is on someone’s chest. </p><p>What’s new, this time, is that no one comes to tell Sokka it’s time to go home. </p><p>Yue falls asleep, her arms wrapped around him, head burrowed between his neck and his shoulder, and Sokka can’t bring himself to move. Not when her heart is beating steady against him, and she’s breathing so assuredly normally. Not when Sokka can look out her skylight and see the stars they’ve named and renamed a hundred times over, the pale light of the moon reflecting luminous on her dark skin. </p><p> </p><p>Not when there’s a thought malignant in the back of his head that this is all only temporary. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sokka blinks, and there’s sunlight slanted across the ceiling of Yue’s room. She’s got her back to him, but her feet are still intertwined with his. Sokka carefully, quietly, grabs his phone off the charger and winces when he sees six missed calls from Dad, another four from Bato, and several text messages from Katara. </p><p>“Oh, fuck.” He whispers. Yue stirs, and when she turns over, Sokka’s breath catches in his throat. </p><p> </p><p>She’s always been pretty, even when they were twelve and more hormones than humans, which Sokka still thinks was desperately unfair, but now, in the soft, warm light of the morning sun-</p><p>She’s almost ephemeral. Like he’ll blink and she’ll be gone. </p><p> </p><p>Sokka can’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to her forehead- gentle, feather-light, as if he can deny he’s doing it at all. </p><p>“Uh-oh.” Yue mumbles, voice rough with sleep. She rubs her eyes and burrows into his side. “We’re gonna be in trouble.” </p><p>“Nah.” Sokka whispers back. “I’ve got a plan.” </p><p> </p><p>The plan, as stupid as it is, is to climb out Yue’s second-story window and carefully scale the wall, and hop over their fence, praying to any god that will listen that Arnook isn’t having coffee in the kitchen, and make a run for his car. It works, and when Sokka pulls up to the house and finds Bato, Gran-gran, and Dad, waiting in the kitchen for him, he can’t even bring himself to argue, or even care very much, when Dad slaps him with a two-week grounding. </p><p> </p><p>It all just doesn’t matter very much, does it?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It takes on a pattern, after a while. Yue disappears for about two weeks, and then emerges at school for a couple half-days, each time looking paler, her clothes a little more comfortable than fashionable. </p><p>Sokka goes over every once in a while, when he can, when she’s up to it, or on the even rarer occasions that she’s up to seeing Suki and Zuko, too. </p><p>There are fundraisers and dinners, and Aang makes these beautiful woven bracelets that say <em>yue strong, </em>surrounded by little yellow stars. Sokka ties his tight around his wrist and refuses to take it off, even to shower or sleep. Katara, with Mom’s necklace around her neck, gives him looks, but doesn’t comment. </p><p> </p><p>When Sokka does go over to see her, they spend a lot of time in the living room, instead of Yue’s room. </p><p>The stairs make her tired. </p><p>Sokka doesn’t mind. Not even when Arnook checks on her every half-hour, or her grandmother gives Sokka a look if he gets closer than two feet to her. As long as Sokka can hold her hand occasionally or watch her smile at a dumb joke, he doesn’t mind at all. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 3:11 AM</em></b></p><p>Tragic update</p><p>The last eyelash fell out </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 3:13 AM</em> </b>
</p><p>Ur the true egg princess now</p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 3:15 AM</em></b></p><p>…...y r u awake</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 3:16 AM</em> </b>
</p><p>did u think i would miss ur coronation</p><p>unoreversecard.jpeg</p><p><b><em><br/>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 3:16 AM</em></b></p><p>too loud in here. My rooms right next to the nurses station </p><p>also i have that meeting with my oncologist tomorrow</p><p>Guess im just scared </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 3:17 AM</em> </b>
</p><p>wanna ft? </p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 3:18 AM</em></b></p><p>U have school tomorrow??</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 3:18 AM</em> </b>
</p><p>is that what i asked</p><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 3:19 AM</em></b></p><p>yes please</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Facetime call duration: 1 hr 3 min</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Earth to Sokka?” Katara waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Anyone in there?” </p><p>Bato snorts into his coffee, turns it into a cough when Dad elbows him. </p><p>“Huh?” Sokka tears his head out of his phone. “Oh. Sorry. Guess I didn’t sleep well.” </p><p>“Hm.” Dad raises an eyebrow. “Arnook mentioned something about the meeting with the oncologist today.” </p><p>“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Katara squeezes his arm. “Yue’s really strong, Sokka.” </p><p>“I guess.” Sokka mumbles. “I’m fine.” </p><p>“Sokka,” Gran-gran starts. </p><p>“I said I was fine.” Sokka repeats, and gets up. “C’mon, Katara, I have a quiz first period.” </p><p>“Oh, <em>now </em>you care about school-” </p><p>
  <em>“Let’s go.” </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Suki asks during lunch, stealing a fry off of Zuko’s plate. “Have you heard from Yue yet?” </p><p>“No.” Sokka says tightly. He stares at the sandwich Gran-gran packed him for lunch, feeling decidedly not hungry, somehow. He pulls his phone out for the millionth time that hour, probably, and swipes open to messages. </p><p>“Me, either.” Suki says. </p><p>“I’m sure it’s fine.” Zuko says. “You know she doesn’t text much when she’s at an appointment. It’ll be okay.” </p><p>“Man, the world must really be ending.” Suki snorts. “Zuko’s being an optimist.” </p><p>“I think Uncle’s starting to rub off on me.” Zuko groans, dropping his head on the table. </p><p> </p><p>Sokka stares at Yue typing, and then stopping. She does it again, and again. </p><p> </p><p>No message ever appears. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Zuko comes over to help him with the English essay they have due in a few days. Zuko insists Sokka will fail if Zuko doesn’t at least <em>proofread </em>it, but Sokka’s fairly certain it’s a thin excuse to keep Sokka from going insane, which is most definitely what will happen if he’s left alone. </p><p>He glances up from his phone again to find Zuko staring at him, his one eyebrow raised. </p><p>“A message isn’t going to materialize just ‘cus you want it to,” he says. </p><p>“Says you.” Sokka retorts. “Maybe I’m manifesting one.” </p><p>“Manifestation isn’t <em>real, </em>Sokka-” </p><p>“Oh, ye of little faith-” </p><p>“Hey, guys,” Dad swings open the door. He doesn’t even bother knocking this time. There’s a weird expression on his face, all sad eyes and set, stoney brows, and Sokka immediately knows something’s wrong.</p><p>“Dad?” He asks. </p><p>“Have either of you heard from Yue today?” Dad asks. </p><p>“No, not yet.” Zuko supplies for both of them, when Sokka seems incapable of answering. </p><p>“Okay.” Dad runs a hand over his face, and comes in, swinging around Sokka’s extra desk chair to sit on. “Okay, I just got off the phone with Arnook.” He takes a deep breath, and whatever he’s about to say is going to hurt, Sokka knows, he knows, he knows- </p><p>“They did another scan today. They caught the cancer late, but Yue was young and healthy, so they were optimistic that with aggressive treatment, they’d be able to shrink the tumor enough for removal. But-” Dad looks straight at him, and his eyes are shiny. “Sokka, I’m sorry. They found tumors in her liver and her lungs.” </p><p> </p><p>The world is closing in on him, Sokka thinks. There isn’t nearly enough oxygen in the room, not even when Zuko digs his nails into his forearm, a reminder to breath. </p><p> </p><p>“But what-” Sokka can barely speak, can barely see, can barely exist in a world where what Dad just said means what Sokka thinks it means, because that’s not fair.  “What’s next? They’re not just <em>stopping</em>, they can’t just stop-”</p><p>“Palliative care, buddy.” Dad says softly. “There’s just not anything else they can do other than make her comfortable.” </p><p>“But-” Zuko says, and there’s a whole sentence that proceeds from there, but Sokka can’t hear any of it. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It’s not fair. </em>
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</p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 2:01 AM</em></b></p><p>im sorry.</p><p>I couldnt tell u. </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Yue </em> </b> <b>🌙 </b> <b> <em>at 2:21 AM</em> </b></p><p>sokka im so sorry </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>For a few days, time passes. That’s all that happens. </p><p>It just passes. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The world turns and the sun rises and then it sets, and life continues on. Like nothing’s wrong. </p><p>Like Sokka’s not about to lose his best friend. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p>“Are you mad at me?” Yue asks. </p><p>She’s so small in her hospital bed, her face rounded out from the steroids, her arms dotted with bruises.</p><p>Sokka’s perpetually on the verge of tears these days, but that's enough to put him over the edge. “Mad?” he repeats softly, incredulously, and thumbs away a tear on her cheek. “How could I ever be mad at you?” </p><p>“I’m-” Yue bites her lip. “I’m leaving you.” </p><p>Sokka has to look away for a moment.  “I’m just scared.” he manages to say. “I’m just really scared.” </p><p>“Me too.” Yue says, and clasps her hand around his wrist. “Sokka, I’m really scared, too.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><b><em>Yue </em></b><b>🌙</b> <b><em>at 7:21 PM</em></b></p><p>i need ur help with something</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 7:21 PM</em> </b>
</p><p>Anything.</p><p><b><br/><em>Yue </em> </b> <b>🌙 </b> <b> <em>at 7:25 PM</em> </b></p><p>come over in a couple hours?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Sokka knocks on the door, Arnook answers. </p><p>“Oh, is she not feeling up to it? I can come over tomorrow-” </p><p>“No, no,” Arnook gives him a tired smile. “She’s actually feeling good today. She’s out back.” </p><p>“Out back…?” </p><p> </p><p>Yue’s barely been able to move from one room to the other without assistance lately. </p><p>“She’s feeling really good.” Arnook shrugs. </p><p> </p><p>Sokka moves through the house like it’s a daydream, and that feeling doesn’t dissipate one bit when he steps out onto the back porch. Yue is sitting on a blanket on the back lawn. Lanterns are lit up all around her, and music is playing softly from a speaker.</p><p>“Hi!” She says. She’s wearing his lacrosse sweatshirt again, her legs- swollen, atrophied- are covered with a thick blue blanket, and when she smiles, it’s like Sokka can almost forget about the oxygen cannula under her nose. </p><p>“What- how?” Sokka manages to stutter out. </p><p>“I wanted to look at the stars with you.” She says. “Is that okay?” </p><p>“Is that-” Sokka drops down next to her, presses a soft kiss to her eyelid. “That’s the most okay thing I’ve ever heard.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p><br/>The stars are bright above them, the moon a perfect crescent. Yue laughs when Sokka tries to remember <em>any </em>of the stories they were taught about the constellations, and ends up butchering most of them.</p><p>“Sokka, Sokka-” Yue grabs his wrist and points his hand on the opposite side of the sky. “<em>that </em>one is Aviguti.” </p><p>“Oh.” Sokka squints. “Okay, but that group almost looked like it.” </p><p>“How do you mess up the Milky Way?” Yue demands. “Wasn’t that the first one your dad taught you, when you went fishing?” </p><p>“No!” Sokka crows, rolling on his side to lightly headbutt her. “Nice try, princess. He taught me Nuuttuittuq, first. Shows what <em>you </em>know.” </p><p>“Nuuttuittuq.” Yue repeats. “The star that never moves.” </p><p> </p><p>Yue stares up at the moon, her face alight with the dancing flames from the fake candles in the lanterns, the pale glow of the stars above. </p><p> </p><p>“It moves here.” Sokka says quietly. </p><p>Yue turns to look at him. “I wish it didn’t.” Her hand finds his. “I don’t want it to.” </p><p>“Neither do I.” Sokka manages to say, though his throat feels impossibly small. </p><p>“One day,” Yue says. “one day, it’ll stay in its place.” </p><p> </p><p>Sokka can’t bring himself to respond to that, because there’s nothing he can say to make that true, as much as he wants to. So he stays very close to her, and holds her hand tight, and listens to her heartbeat. </p><p> </p><p>And they look up at the universe, and feel at the same time very small and very significant, until Arnook appears to carry his daughter back inside. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 11:08 PM</em> </b>
</p><p>I love you </p><p>I don’t say it enough</p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Yue </em> </b> <b>🌙 </b> <b> <em>at 11:49 PM</em> </b></p><p>you’ve never had to. </p><p>But i love you, too. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The days pass. Katara sticks close to him. They used to share a bed, back when they would visit Gran-gran in Nunavut for the summers before she moved in with them. </p><p>Sokka doesn’t sleep well these days, not as Yue declines, and nothing seems to matter so much as the couple hours a day that she’s awake and lucid. He can’t find it in himself to object when Katara starts crawling into his bed late at night, her stuffed bison in tow, looking so much younger than fourteen that it hurts. </p><p> </p><p>It’s one of those nights. </p><p>All the nights this week, since Dad sat them down and told them that Yue probably didn’t have long left, have been one of those nights. </p><p>Sokka, curled up on his side and staring at the ceiling, is wide-awake when his bedroom door creaks open. Dad’s face is dark, surrounded by the warm light of the hallway, and Sokka can hear Bato murmuring behind him. </p><p> </p><p>Dad’s crying. </p><p> </p><p>Sokka curls in tighter on himself, can’t bring himself to look at Dad when he sits on the edge of the bed and puts a hand on his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Sokka.” Dad’s voice cracks. “Sokka, honey, I’m so sorry.” </p><p>“Please.” Sokka whispers. </p><p>“She passed a few minutes ago, baby, I’m sorry. She wasn’t in any pain.” Dad’s hand tightens. “She was with her dad.” </p><p> </p><p>Sokka just stares up at the ceiling. Yellowing stars, some half-fallen off, are stuck to the white in poor imitations of constellations. He and Yue had spent hours putting them up after Sokka’s tenth birthday. </p><p> </p><p>“I-” Sokka starts, and can’t speak anymore. “Why?” </p><p>“Honey.” Dad says. “Sometimes, there isn’t a why.” </p><p>“It doesn’t make <em>sense. </em>It’s not fair.” Sokka says. His stomach hurts, his eyes are burning, and Dad is putting tight arms around him as Katara stirs next to him. “Dad, it’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not- it’s not fair, it’s not, it’s not-” </p><p>“I know.” Dad whispers. “I know, I know.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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  <b> <em>Sokka at 4:57 AM</em> </b>
</p><p>Yue its not true is it? </p><p>come on just reply this isn’t funny</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Sokka at 5:17 AM</em> </b>
</p><p>i miss you so much. Please. </p><p>
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  <b> <em>Sokka at 7:09 AM</em> </b>
</p><p>i love you so much. im happy youre not in pain. </p><p>But everything else hurts.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yue doesn’t look like herself at the wake. </p><p>They’ve put some horrible black wig on to cover her bald head, and the foundation on her face doesn’t nearly match how rich and glowing her skin was. Dad keeps a steady hand on his shoulder when they go up, and Sokka doesn’t want to look, but he has to. </p><p> </p><p>It’s not even her favorite dress. Sokka stares at it, the blue and white interlacing around her chest, and Sokka swears it rises and falls with her breaths. </p><p> </p><p>But then Dad steers him away, and the next day, they bury her anyways. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The Taqqiq’s house is stifling in a way it’s never seemed before, and Sokka can’t stop seeing Yue everywhere- a flash of bright-white hair around the corner, his sweatshirt hung on the bannister, a finger-painting from preschool signed <em>sokka </em>and <em>yue</em>. </p><p> </p><p>He’s going to choke on it. </p><p> </p><p>He manages to slip out the back before Zuko or Dad or Bato can notice, and pulls his knees to his chest on the steps of the porch, looking up at the emerging stars. </p><p> </p><p>“She really loved you, you know.” Arnook settles himself on the step next to him. He looks tired, Sokka thinks. Sokka’s tired, too. </p><p>“I really loved her.” Sokka manages. His throat’s been raw, lately. It’s hard to talk. </p><p>“I know.” Arnook says. He pulls something out of his pocket and offers it to Sokka. “That’s why she wanted you to have this.” </p><p> </p><p>It’s her little silver moon pendant, the one Yue’s had since she was a baby, careworn and scratched. </p><p> </p><p>“I-” Sokka stares at it, until Arnook presses it into his palm. </p><p>“It’s for you, Sokka.” He says firmly. </p><p> </p><p>Sokka feels the heavy weight of the silver against his skin, and wants it to press him down, down, down, until nothing around him exists. </p><p><br/>“I really miss her.” Sokka whispers, and Arnook tips his head down. </p><p>“Me too, son.” Arnook says. “You know, Yue’s mother always told her, before she passed, that no one ever really leaves us. She told Yue to look at the moon, and that’s where she’d be.” </p><p> </p><p>The moon is only just emerging over the skyline, pale and weak. </p><p>Nuuttuittuq is bright and steady above him, and Sokka presses the pendant to his throat, his fingers shaking as he clasps it around his neck. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Hey, no <em>fair- </em>” Yue shoves him. “You don’t get to climb up first just ‘cus you’re <em>older.</em>” </p><p>“Uh, yes I do, genius.” Sokka sticks his tongue out at her. “I turned <em>ten </em>last week. You’re only <em>nine. </em>You’re a baby.” </p><p>“I’ll be ten in four weeks.” Yue stomps her foot and juts her lip out, and Sokka rolls his eyes. </p><p>“You’re so dramatic. Fine, you climb up first. After you, <em>princess</em>.” </p><p>“Don’t call me that!” Yue says, but her cheeks are flushed pink as she deftly climbs up the rope ladder to the tree-platform Dad built for them. </p><p>“Did you bring the map?” She asks, as soon as Sokka pulls himself up. </p><p>“Of <em>course </em>I did. Did you bring your brain?” he retorts, laying the constellation map flat on the floor.</p><p>That earns him another shove, but then Yue is far more preoccupied, bending over the map, her finger tracing dot to dot, line to line, until they paint a picture in front of her. </p><p>“There!” She gasps. She points straight up to the sky. “<em>Singuuriq. </em>Flickering, like a candle.” She waves her hand like a flame and giggles. </p><p>“I like that one better.” Sokka declares, pointing at another constellation. “The Big Dipper. It’s <em>way </em>easier to find, anyways.” </p><p>“But way more boring.” Yue wrinkles her nose. </p><p>“You’re boring.” </p><p><em>“You’re boring!”</em> </p><p> </p><p>Yue shoves him over, and Sokka won’t take that, so he grabs her t-shirt sleeve and pulls her down too, and soon, they’re giggling on the rough-hewn wood of the platform, the stars bright above them, and the world stretched out before them in infinite possibilities. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Content warnings: Major character death, mentions of chemotherapy, childhood cancer, surgery, grief. Happy to tag anything else if needed!</p><p>IM SORRY</p><p>but also my tumblr is @ta1k-less so feel free to direct ur threats there :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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